Anything, Everything, Always
by TheMadKatter13
Summary: [Kinktober 2017 series 14: Incest] Every moment together is a stolen one for them, and Dean doesn't appreciate any interruptions. Even if that interruption is Cas himself. He complains, but the truth is: Dean will always oblige his twin's every whim. Anything to make Cas happy. AU; Top Cas / Bottom Dean


**Okay so, the first week of Kinktober, I was listening to Halsey's 'Control', and a Destiel idea bowled me over so I wrote down the idea and then went about my business. The idea wouldn't leave me alone and the next day I couldn't stop thinking about a potential flashback scene, and it bothered me all day and I finally wrote it down, and this Kinktober entry is that scene. I do want to write out the full fic idea, but I don't know if I will ever get to it, or how long it'll take if I do because it definitely feels like it's going to be 50k+. So, in the meantime, please enjoy this snippet.**

 **Note: they are still in high school and still under 18 in this fic, but neither their ages nor their school are mentioned to give that fact relevance. Just wanted to give some undisclosed background, also to explain why they still live with their father (who does not yet have an identity at this stage of the larger fic's building process).**

 **Cross-posted from AO3 same day.**

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Day 14: Sensory Deprivation | Role Reversal | **Incest**

Dean was positively floating, high on the sensation of Cas fucking quick and steady into him, pressing him into the bed and trapping his cock against the mattress. It felt like it had been forever since his brother had last had him, since they'd last had the opportunity to be as close as they both needed, even though in reality it couldn't have been more than a few weeks. A few too many. He buried his face deeper into his crossed arms and forced the thoughts from his mind, intent on focusing on only the here and now, on the way Cas was practically laying on his back, his twin's weight keeping him pinned as kisses were brushed from shoulder blade to shoulder blade; Cas' arms were even wrapped around Dean's, shadowing his vision and keeping him shielded from the world and safe in the cage of Cas' body.

Except, as soon as Dean had that thought, Cas was sitting up, taking away the comfort of his weight and his arms and was even… the asshole was _stopping_.

"Cas, what the fuck," Dean slurred into the cave of his arms, tongue uncooperative.

Cas just hummed distractedly in reply, fingers landing on Dean's shoulders and tracing a light, invisible path that Dean suspected were made up from his freckles. For some reason, Cas loved his freckles, loved showering them with attention by kissing or biting every single one. When they had time.

"Caaas," Dean drawled, voice quiet but still loud enough for Cas to hear it. Even though their father wasn't home right now, they were too used to striving for silence to avoid waking him up or drawing his attention, and 'bad idea' didn't even cover the possibility that, if they grew used to being loud when they were alone, that they'd slip up when they weren't. Or if they missed him returning home because they were too deep into each other.

Cas gave a single thrust that felt like he forgot what he was doing halfway through the movement and then Cas' other hand came into play, fingertips a butterfly kiss against Dean's shoulder. Now, the tracing seemed to grow purpose, two fingers (Cas' pointers, Dean guessed) drawing invisible lines in symmetry on either side of Dean's spine. It was a pleasant sensation, but not as pleasant as getting fucked, and the longer they took, the greater chances they had of getting caught. They'd have plenty of warning, of course, but still, the risk was very present and very real, especially if they didn't notice the signs.

"Angel, I love you, I really do, but seriously what the fuck," Dean repeated, finally lifting his head to turn it on its side, trying to look over his shoulder without having to put much effort into it. "Can please try to hold onto whatever artsy thought you've got until after you've come in me?" Cas was, frankly, a possessive bastard, and he got off on the idea of marking Dean so much that Dean had had to steal makeup and learn how to apply it to hide the marks from Cas' leech mouth, and Cas never came anywhere that wasn't inside Dean. Which was totally okay because Dean got off just as much at the thought of being Cas' so it all worked out. So when Cas' mind drifted, sometimes all it took was a little possession threaded through Dean's words to coax his twin's mind back outward, back to Dean, back to them.

"Sorry, beautiful," Cas murmured, voice still a bit distant as he placed both palms on Dean's lower back and slid his hands up to wrap his fingers around Dean's ribs and squeeze tightly. The rest of him followed a moment later, draping back over Dean until his lips were brushing Dean's cheek. "Hand me a sharpie and the polaroid."

Dean groaned, rolling his face back into the cradle of his arms, and from there he protested another " _Caaas._ "

Cas nipped the back of his neck and gave a single full thrust, pulling his cock out and pushing it back in, the girth somehow so much _more_ when it was inside Dean than when it wasn't. "If you're good for me and let me do this, I'll be good to you," he promised, voice tantalizing in its drawled offer.

"I don't want you to pull out yet," Dean sighed, even though he was already resigning himself to it. He could never turn his brother down, not for anything. What Cas wanted, Cas got. Always. Dean made sure of it.

"I promise I won't pull out," Cas murmured, pushing his head against Dean's to try and get at his neck.

"Really?" Dean asked, perking up. He cranked his head as far as he could to the side and Cas matched him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips.

"Promise."

Dean grinned and then reached out a hand to snag his jeans, tugging a black permanent marker from the pocket before he used the same pair of jeans to snag the strap of Cas' backpack and draw it close enough to the bed that he wouldn't have to have Cas pull out for him to reach the camera inside. He handed them both over his shoulder to his brother, and Cas rewarded him with a few firm thrusts that pushed perfectly against his prostate and had Dean melting back into his arms and the bed all over again.

"Thank you, Dean," Cas said as he sat up on his knees, settling his weight over Dean's thighs even as he made sure his pelvis never separated from Dean's ass, keeping them connected, keeping him inside.

"Anything for you, angel," Dean murmured right back.

"Anything for you, beautiful," Cas whispered right back. It was their 'I love you', the one that they could say with anyone listening and not attract attention. Minus the endearments, of course. Separation was their greatest fear, and the chances of that happening should anyone find out exactly how much they'd do for one another, if anyone found out how close they were, were too high to risk.

Two hands grabbed Dean's ass cheeks and pulled them apart, and then Cas was wiggling closer, trying to get as much of his cock into Dean as possible, and it made Dean hum in delight. When Cas was satisfied, he squeezed Dean's ass cheeks once, hard enough to leave a phantom imprint of his fingerprints when he let go, before he gently turned Dean's head face-down again and tugged his biceps to move them in the tiniest increments. Finally, Dean seemed to be posed just right because Cas sat back, and there was the familiar pop of the cap being pulled from the Sharpie.

The first touch of the pen landed somewhere just to the inside of his left shoulder blade, and he let himself get lost in the strokes of black ink scratching across his skin. He didn't think Cas coloured anything in, but it was hard to tell as it travelled from his left shoulder blade and down the left side of his back, curling just a little around his ribs, just what Cas could reach with Dean on his stomach. When Dean thought his brother might be done, the felt tip returned to his left shoulder blade, dipping up onto the curve of his shoulder before marking the back of his arm to his elbow. Dean had no idea what was going up on his skin, nor did he particularly care. He never cared what Cas used him as a canvas for, only that he did, and he did often. Never anything this size though.

The left side of his back felt a bit tingly from Cas' drawing, his right side feeling strangely bare, by the time the weight over his thighs shifted and his brother sat up. True to his word, as he had drawn, Cas didn't pull out as he'd inked up Dean's back, and he didn't pull out now that he was done. And amazingly enough, he was still just as hard, still just as thick. Not that Dean wasn't the same, what with his cock trapped between him and their bed and the tip of Cas' cock brushing his prostate with every shift.

"Done?" he mumbled without bothering to lift his head; Cas hadn't said he could yet and he didn't want to do anything to disrupt what had been drawn.

"With your left side," Cas confirmed. It took Dean a few moments to realize that meant that he still had to get Sharpied on his right side. He let out a little groan and squeezed around Cas's cock, and Cas inhaled, wavering where he knelt. Dean received a sharp swat on one ass cheek for that move and he chuckled into the dark around him. "Be still, I don't want to make a mistake."

Instead of replying , Dean hummed his assent as he let his body fall still. A moment later, Cas got back to work, permanent marker following the same path as before, only mirrored. Wet felt started at his right shoulder blade before ending up around his ribs and his lower back, and then it lifted and migrated to cover his shoulder and the back of his other arm. When Cas sat back on his heels for the second time, he warned Dean to retain his stillness before Dean even had the chance to move or speak. Dean obeyed and felt Cas go still as well, and a moment later, there was the _flash-whir_ of the old Polaroid camera.

Since he hadn't been told he could move yet, Dean stayed as he was, and just as he heard his brother starting shaking out the photograph, Cas began to move again. Even though Cas had been inside him for the last however long that drawing took, that first time he pulled nearly out before gliding slowly back forward in an infuriating pace, it felt like Dean's body was welcoming his brother home. He didn't argue against the moderate pace or intensity, didn't try to get more than what he was being given, though, because Cas had promised and Cas always delivered on his promises.

Soft breaths on the wet ink sparked goosebumps as Cas blew on his drawing to dry it. It only took a few minutes, during which he also waved the polaroid over Dean's skin to help, and then a palm pressed into his shoulder before withdrawing with a triumphant sound. A moment later, Cas was settling himself over Dean again, his hips never ceasing their steady pace on the way to turn Dean to mush. One arm wrapped around his again, like it had been before Cas had been struck by inspiration, and before he could wonder where the other was, there was a hand in the short strands of his hair, curling and tugging, and he lifted his head at his brother's direction.

The late afternoon sun was a golden beam through the few windows spaced along the sloped roof of their attic room, and after spending so long with his eyes closed and surrounded in darkness, he had to blink tears away when the light stung his eyes. When they cleared, he found that the arm curled around his was holding the picture Cas had taken, and Cas propped his chin on Dean's shoulder, his head pressed close to Dean's so they could look at the picture together, Cas' hips still pumping, like an orgasm was the last thing on his mind.

"I couldn't stop staring at your back," Cas whispered into Dean's ear, sending a shiver down his spine. "I love your back, I love watching your muscles move, your skin shifting over them. I love the way your freckles catch in the sunlight, and the way the sun always gifts you more. You're so beautiful, Dean. You're my knight in shining armor, my guardian angel, and now you have the wings to prove it."

Fresh tears, this time sparked by the swell of emotion in his chest, pricked at Dean's eyes, trying to distort the image in front of him of his own back from the waist-up, two black wings drawn in stark lines across his shoulders and arms and two more drawn from the same wing-joint down his back. Words stuck in his throat, as they always did when he tried to acknowledge the poetic way Cas described him, the way Cas saw his younger twin with his own two eyes. Cas never minded that Dean had a hard time though, he always understood without Dean saying a word, and he demonstrated it now with a lingering soft kiss at Dean's temple.

"If you can get your hands on some henna ink, I'd love to make it more permanent than Sharpie," Cas whispered into his hair. He began to increase the pace of his hips, each thrust sending white across Dean's eyes that was more successful in breaking his ability to see what his brother had turned him into than the tears had been, but he refused to turn his gaze from the picture anyway.

"Anything for you, Cas," Dean whispered, and Cas muttered a quiet "Fuck" in his ear before unleashing his full speed, and Dean was coming in moments, his orgasm washing through him in a soft sort of way that he could never get enough of. Cas came not long after, spilling into Dean, filling him with his come, marking him from the inside. And soon, Cas was gonna mark him from the outside too, a mark Dean could show off with pride without anyone ever understanding or noticing the twisted love that ran through every hennaed feather.

"Fuck, I love you," Dean gasped, untangling his arms to reach one behind him to grab his brother's - his _lover's_ \- hair, arching his own head painfully around to devour Cas' mouth. "I love you so much, Cas. You're everything."

"I love you too, Dean," Cas gasped between rough kisses, his own hand tightening in Dean's hair. "You're mine, always, and I'm going to put my mark on you for the world to see."

"Always," Dean echoed, and Cas' teen libido had him swelling inside Dean again as Dean's own had him hardening against the now-wet sheets.

The downstairs was still silent, no rumbling car or slamming doors in sight, and so Dean kept Cas close and deep as the afternoon faded into evening, taking everything he could while he could, and Cas doing the same, because they weren't sure when they would have the chance to do it again.

FIN / TBC

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 **I really like this 'verse and I've got Plans, and hopefully I'll be able to actually enact them one day.**

 **Reblog the thing (themadkatter13fanfiction tumblr, tagged/Anything-Everything-Always).**


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